Not the Way It Once Was (Short Story)
by Burning-Stars98
Summary: After years of wandering the galaxies in exile, Knockout is finally back on Cybertron. He hopes to finally take a break and get back to just being a medic, but he must first complete a few tasks, and that includes setting his son straight. (Post-TFP and RID2015) (After Energon is Thicker Than Water)
1. Chapter 1

_You can do this, you're fine..._

Knockout had been telling himself that ever since he'd gotten off of the ship with Sunstreaker and was back on Cybertron.

He didn't know why he was so nervous. Half of the new High Council were bots he'd worked with before...and fought before. It had been a good thing that Sunstreaker had been there to back him up, that Windblade femme didn't seem as understanding as Ratchet or Bulkhead.

Despite their history, however, they'd revoked the banishment, and even given him a residence to get re-integrated into society. People still glared at him as he passed, but he had found some bots were welcoming, and he'd gotten a position at a local medical station. He did routine physicals, nothing serious, but in his free time, he researched and catalogued his findings about the growing condition affecting bots off-world...The condition he was about to inform the Medical Council about.

Thank Primus Ratchet was willing to listen to him.

"The Medical Council of Cybertron is assembled..." Ratchet's voice echoed from the interior of the chamber as Knockout hid in the shadows of the corridor leading to it. There was a chorus of mumbles and groans from the other medics taking their seats around the space. "Yes, I know this was short notice, but we've received a crucial report from one of our own..."

There it was...No turning back. He stepped out into the light, looking down at his feet to avoid making eye contact with the muttering and groaning bots around him. Yes, he wasn't liked by many, but he wasn't going to pull out now.

"Everyone, please...Knockout, you have our attention."

Knockout held his data pad with both hands as he stepped forward, all eyes falling on him. He felt like he was on trial, but this was more important than his comfort, and they all needed to hear his findings. "Medical Councilmechs and femmes... As some of you may have already known, I have returned from a many-year-long exile from Cybertron, assigned to me by the Decepticons that infitrated the High Council's chamber all those cycles ago."

"Get to the point..." One of the other medics muttered. "It's late."

Knockout cleared his vocal regulator, and then looked down at his data pad for a brief moment. "During this time off-planet, I encountered many Cybertronian outposts and colonies across the galaxy, and I was introduced to a serious condition that the public must be informed of... This condition is what I'm calling Unibot Reproductive Syndrome, or Budding. To put it simply... Bots are being born from other bots."

Murmurs lingered through the chamber, and Knockout gave a brief glance to his notes. He wanted to make sure the information was given properly to avoid sounding like a fool.

"What is the extent of this condition, Knockout?" Another medic asked.

"At each of the colonies, I did a tally of how many bots had been effected, how many bots were sparked from this, and how many had not demonstrated any of the signs I'd found. Depending on the colony and the landscape of the planetoid they were on, there was 30 to 65 percent of the colonists who'd already budded, or were in the process of creating a new life when I studied them. Study of all of the bots revealed to me that they all had the same kind of programming in their systems, but while in all of the colonists it was active, I have yet to find any bots here on Cybertron with an active programming."

"Are you saying that this programming for creating new life from ourselves is in every one of us?"

"All of the bots sparked after Cybertron's resurgence, definitely. I will need more time to study it, but I intend to spend my hours doing so until I can know for certain what causes it, and what might be done to prevent it from happening without warning. My theory is that Cybertron itself emits its own subliminal signal to the inhabitants that keeps the programming inactive while they are on the planet, but the signal does not reach any bots when they leave the planet, so anyone leaving Cybertron may be at risk of it activating if they are off-world for an amount of time."

"So as long as we remain on Cybertron, we're not suseptible to the program being activated?"

"That is my theory, yes. But we cannot trap every cybertronian to the planet. There are traders, prison ships, ships patrolling for Decepticon activity out in space, they're all needed and cannot do their jobs by remaining on the surface."

"What have you observed about the process itself?"

"The 'parent,' as I'm referring to them, will initially experience heightened levels of energon and electrical activity at first. Over the course of a few deca-cycles, they'll experience pressure in their chestplates, and joint aches, and then finally a mass of cybermatter is expelled from them and over a few minutes to a few hours, the cybermatter takes on the form of a new bot. The new bot's appearance is influenced by the 'parent's' thoughts during the process, much like programming a new program for an existing hard drive."

"What happens to the bots afterward?"

"Both the parent and new bot recover and are able to function just fine within a few solar cycles of the expelling. I have yet to see any severe after-effects to it." He looked down at his notes once more. "I will be continuing my research on the matter, but for now, I would suggest that any bots planning to leave Cybertron's surface should have an evaluation to ensure their health is optimal should it occur while they are off-planet."

"A viable suggestion...This session is adjourned. You are all free to go."

As the bots began to file out, they were murmured to themselves, trying to wrap their processors around this new phenomenon. Knockout didn't like how many of them were referring to it as a _threat_, but it _did_ remind him of something.

He waited until Ratchet walked out of the chamber before catching him. "Ratchet, may I have a word?"

"I'd say you've earned a few moments..." Ratchet replied. "What is it?"

Knockout took a moment to collect himself, "...I have a favor to ask..."

"Yes?"

"One of the Stunticons that Bumblebee captured and were transported here by Optimus Prime...I would appreciate it if you would release them into my custody."

"Oh? and why is that?"

"...He's mine. I didn't know how he existed at the time, but I couldn't bring him with me when I was banished, and now he's gotten himself in the wrong crowd, just as I did all those centuries ago." Knockout sighed, "I know he's partially responsible for a lot of things, but if his sentence is permanent stasis, then at least let me see him _one_ more time..."

Ratchet was quiet for a moment, and then placed a hand on Knockout's shoulder. "...I've seen from humans how strong a parent-child relationship can be...I will see what I can do."

"Thank you...Now if you'll excuse me," he collected up his data tablets. "I am going to rid all these jitters with some smooth high-grade...!"

Ratchet chuckled, but then paused. "Knockout, one question."

"Yes?"

"...You said that these new bots are born from bots... _Any_ bots might be affected?"

"Yes, why?"

"No reason... Goodnight."

Knockout was hesitant, but then gave a nod, transforming into vehicle mode and driving off into the city. He wondered why Ratchet seemed so curious about it, but his own curiosity was not enough to question the other medic further.

Meanwhile, Ratchet's thoughts went to a conversation he'd had a few months prior, back when Knockout had been on Earth...With Bumblebee...

"...Bumblebee _knows_ something..." He muttered.

"Something the matter, Sir?"

Ratchet looked to the young medical student he was tutoring, "Ah, Lifeline... No, nothing's the matter. I just may have to make a trip to Earth."

Lifeline peeked out from behind her pile of data tablets in her arms. "Earth? Are you certain that's wise, Sir? After what Knockout just said?"

Ratchet smirked. "Oh don't you worry. I'm far too _old_ for that sort of thing..." He took some of the data tablets from her. "Come on, let's get back to the academy and get these sorted out..."


	2. Chapter 2

"Well look who it is! I haven't seen you in orns! What happened to you?"

Knockout chuckled as he came up to the counter. "Had to give a speech to the Medical Council... Gimme something to cool the jitters."

The bartender smirked as he turned to fill a cannister for the medic. "I meant 'where have you been?' Like I said, it's been orns, and you used to be a very frequent visitor."

"Oh." Knockout took the cannister. "I was banished from Cybertron for insulting those cons that were impersonating the High Council."

"Ah...Got it worked out with the new council then?"

Knockout nodded as he took a sip. "Got my job and credentials back, too."

"Wow... Back to your first answer, what kind of speech? An apology?"

"I encountered a spreading condition amongst the Cybertronian Colonies while I was away. Something serious."

"A virus?"

"No...But something we are all at some risk of developing. I can't go into the details other than no bot is the same afterward."

"The kid know you're back?"

"No...I haven't had time to see him yet. I'm planning to, though. As soon as I get the chance."

"Good. Two of you seemed close."

"We were..." _You don't even know how close..._

As he sipped on his energon, Knockout's thoughts went to that day...The day his own life had been forever changed...

* * *

**YEARS AGO...**

Something was wrong, he'd known that for cycles.

That night, after Optimus Prime had sacrificed himself to save the planet, he'd felt out of sorts. He'd ignored it at the time, blaming it on the event. What bot wouldn't be shaken up after defeating Unicron, watching their former leader send himself into exile, and then witnessing the leader of the winning team die to let others live?

He'd gone back to the Nemesis, using the medical bay's scanners to do a self-diagnostic, but had found nothing wrong. In fact, his reports came back better than normal. Over time, however, he'd felt a tension in his joints, and pressure in his chestplate building.

Now he sat in the tower he'd made his home. With the power back on, he'd turned what was obviously once a war outpost into a simplistic home of sorts. Energon stored under the floor, a recharge station in the back, and some medical scanners set up in the corner. It wasn't perfect, but it served its purpose.

His back was against the wall, his legs pulled up as pain pulsed through his chassis in waves.

The sounds of Cybertron's reconstruction came from outside, creaking plates moving together, the occasional hum of power being restored in nearby structures, and the movement of bots as they worked. He'd seen a ship of returning bots come in from the sky the night before, but he hadn't heard yet who was aboard. He had helped the first few bots to arrive home with their wounded and checking for any unknown injuries in order to hopefully gain their trust and to help Ratchet not be so overloaded, but once Autobot medics other than Ratchet returned, the new bots went to them instead.

He still wasn't seen as an Autobot...to them, he was still a 'Con.

Another wave pulled him out of his thoughts. His spark was pounding, but he didn't cry out. Who would come? He opened his chest plates, feeling the pressure ease a bit. But he gave a soft cry as he saw a silvery substance moving inside of his chest compartment, pulsing and shifting like it had a life of its own.

He knew this substance, what medic didn't? Cybermatter...The substance that formed them, their planet, everything cybertronian. He grimaced, his clawed fingers leaving scratches in the floor. His optics were malfunctioning, flickering between showing the patchwork ceiling and darkness every time a wave of pain would hit him. His cries came out in gasps, fluid leaking from his optics and spilling down his faceplate. Cybermatter was coating his insides, and nobody was here to help him. He could be going offline any moment; Primus, let it end...

All of a sudden the pressure faded and he let out a cry of relief, shutting his optics tightly as the pain eased, but didn't subside entirely.

Movement against his arm caught his attention, and he turned his helm a little to investigate, his optics only widening as he saw a tiny, silvery body squirming on the floor.

Knockout whimpered as he sat up, putting one hand to his chest compartment, now closed but still throbbing with pain. His attention was more on the little life now feebly squirming across the floor, optics tightly shut and whimpering as it seemed to search for something.

"By the Primes..." He whispered, slowly moving his fingers towards the shape. It reacted to his slightest touch, almost reaching for the touch. It was definitely cybertronian, and very much alive, but...Had it come from him? He had never even heard of such a thing! It was impossible! It was...

Knockout's thoughts came to a halt as the tiny cybertronian took his fingers and wrapped its own around them, putting its mouth on the tips. Knockout should've felt grossed out as he felt their glossia brush against his fingers like they were a food source, but he wasn't disgusted in the least... Food! "You're hungry...!"

The shape was immediately scooped into his arms, and he scrambled across the floor, holding it close to his chest as he rummaged through boxes and crates for something to use to feed the newborn. "Something, something...!" He hissed, finally finding a syringe. "...It'll work."

He quickly cleaned the syringe and sterilized it before opening a container of energon. At one point, he would not have bothered sanitizing anything unless it was for himself, but that was before...

He filled the syringe then slowly allowed it to drip onto the little bot's lips until it opened its mouth and he was able to squirt it into its mouth. "Good..." He gave a quick look between the tiny life's squirming legs, realizing he hadn't yet identified their gender. "...Mech...Good mech..." He whispered.

The little mech's optics finally opened, white and colorless like the rest of them. His little fingers brushed against the sides of the syringe, as if trying to hold onto it himself.

This wasn't right. Bots weren't supposed to come from bots, and any bots he'd seen born had emerged at the perfect size and maturity to be programmed as soldiers, but then again that had been during the war, when any able body was never wasted for either side. Still, this protoform seemed much too small and under-developed to be in the waking world, and this world was not one that would be kind to such a young, helpless bot.

"Primus...!" Knockout whispered. Was this the source of that odd feeling he'd had since they'd returned? Surely it was, because that out-of-sorts feeling was now replaced by...Something else. His programming as a medic and fighter has being over-ridden by this new urge to give up everything and do anything to keep this tiny life safe and happy.

A rumbling from outside shook the room, and Knockout ducked into the corner, out of view from the window but peering out like a frightened fugitive. Just in sight was yet another refugee ship coming in for a landing, its lights barely visible now as it came ever closer to the planet.

Knockout looked down at the little mech in his arms, still trying to get energon from the syringe even though it was empty. He pulled the container over to him with his foot, refilling the syringe without looking away from the window. "...I need answers..."


	3. Chapter 3

FWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET!

Knockout jumped as the train's whistle rang out, looking up from his hands where they rested in his lap. Was he there already? He checked his systems...Yes, it had indeed been an hour.

"...This is why I chose public transport." He whispered. He'd known his attention was not on the road, but on other things, and driving out here would have been a hazard.

The train car that had once been full when he'd spaced out into his own thoughts was now empty except for him and the pair of security bots that had accompanied him. The train had stopped, dropped off passengers, and gone on again multiple times and he hadn't even noticed...

...Yup. Public transport was the safest option today.

He got up from the bench, wandering out onto the platform and looking up at the massive building he'd been coming to. Towering alone on the outskirts of Kaon City, it was like a spike of black amongst the brightness of the rest of the city. "...Detention Block C-9..."

"That's what I just said..." The engine muttered. "Don't take forever in there."

"Give me sixty cycles."

The medic took another look at the building, and then headed for the door. The guards blocked their way, and Knockout pulled out his tablet. "I'm here for prison cell G-604..."

The guards overlooked the report, and then nodded, allowing him to pass through after checking him for weapons. The inside was as dark and quiet as the exterior, and he overlooked the cells that lined the halls. So many bots who'd wasted their lives committing felonies and crimes...And he could have easily been one of them at one time.

"This place gives me the creeps...!" One of the guards whispered.

Knockout chuckled. "You should've seen the Nemesis when Megatron was running the show..."

"I'd rather not, sir..."

The place was a maze, and the signs were nearly illegible after thousands of years. Knockout could only hope he was going the right direction... In his head he ran over the numbers he saw over the cells. "So many... Here we are."

He'd found it. Out of all of the cells in this corridor, this one and four others were the newest batch. Still clean and lacking the rust others did, Knockout ignored the other four, using a hand to wipe the frost from the capsule's view port. His optics widened as he saw them, the bot he'd been searching for. "...Scrud...You look even more like him than you did the last time I saw you..."

"This it, sir?"

"Yes... Let's get him back to the train before our ride gets impatient."

Getting out of the Detention Center was almost as hard as it was finding the capsule. The engine had transformed into bot mode and was tapping his foot on the track. "Two minutes late."

"Our apologies..." Knockout watched the security guards carry the capsule into the car, and then followed them inside. Within moments, they were moving once more, and Knockout placed a hand on the capsule to steady himself as he found himself back into a sitting position.

"Who is this bot, anyway?" One of the guards pondered.

Knockout sighed. "...Someone I used to know..."

His optics fell once more on the still, stasis-sleeping bot within the capsule, his optics closed but his expression looking slightly pained.

_You always have gotten into mischief...I remember that first time...In the library..._

He closed his optics and leaned his helm back against the wall as he remembered, his memory banks replaying those moments...

* * *

_"There it is..."_

_Knockout looked up at the tower in front of him, lit up in white and red glows. "...The Medical Knowledge Depository."_

_It was the former Con's best chance at finding answers; the depository was where a copy of every medical discovery was stored: maladies, cures, advances in medical procedure, everything. If there was nothing about what had happened to Knockout inside those files, then it was highly unlikely to be stored anywhere else._

_He turned his head as he felt movement, his optics catching a glimpse of the sparkling's helm poking out of the pack strapped to Knockout's back. "No no no..." He hissed, pushing the infant's helm back down and out of sight. "Stay in there, little one. And keep quiet."_

_A faint coo was the response, and Knockout rolled his eyes. "Primus, what did I do to-"_

_He ducked further into the alley as a transport passed, and then slipped back out and followed. He grabbed onto the back and rode it up to the door, quickly opening the door and slipping inside before anyone saw him. It was after-hours, and he knew the Autobots wouldn't approve of him snooping around their information without someone to moderate what he was able to see. But he couldn't let anyone know about this...Not yet._

_The place was quiet, only the quiet humming of machinery and Knockout's footsteps filled the silence. He moved along as quietly as he could, finding a computer station against one wall and moving to it. "Okay... 'Spontaneous bot-to-bot creation...'"_

_**NO RECORDS MATCH YOUR QUERY.**_

_"Okay then... How about 'bot creating other bots'..."_

**_MULTIPLE RECORDS MATCH YOUR QUERY. _**

_"No, not forging a body for an existing spark, I mean like a 'bot branching off from another bot'..."_

**_ONE RECORD MATCHES YOUR QUERY._**

_Knockout's optics moved over the single file, and he groaned as he saw the location. "Dah...Restricted area. You have to be a librarian to get that...And the only clerk I'd trust is no longer online..."_

_He stiffened as he heard a giggle echo off of the walls, and he whipped around. He felt the pack on his back, only to find the sparkling had somehow climbed out without his knowledge. "Scrap...!"_

_He dropped down onto his hands and knees, looking under shelving units and tables as he moved back towards the door, then heard the giggle again, and turned just in time to see the sparkling disappear behind the doors of the elevator, even having the audacity of waving goodbye. "No no no no...!" He ran to the doors, rapidly pressing the open button, but was unable to stop the elevator from moving on its way up the shaft. _

_"Primus is punishing me for everything I've ever done, that's it." He decided as he fled to the stairs. Out of the dozens of floors, the little one could be stopping on any of them._

_He would pause at every floor, groaning as he'd see the elevator was still rising. Other bots looked up at him, some walking over to the opening to the stairwell and watching him rush back up another floor._

_He finally reached the sixth floor and saw the doors open, but the sparkling nowhere in sight. "I swear I'm gonna..."_

_He paused, taking a moment to calm himself. More than that, he listened. A squeal told him which direction to go, and he ran down the hall. He finally saw his prize, pulling data tablets off of a bottom shelf and scattering them across the floor. "There you are, you little glitch." He scooped up the infant in his arms and held him up to his faceplate. "Now look. You have to stay put, alright? I can't be spending all my energon chasing after a tiny, adventurous..." _

_He quieted as the sparkling cooed, reaching out and touching his faceplate with wide optics. There was no point in trying to explain things to him, his processor was still too primitive. He didn't understand logic, he learned through touching, feeling..._

_Wait, he knew that face. He'd learned the meaning of that face the night before!_

_The medic ran to a window, opening and holding the little bot out as the little mech sent a stream of transmission fluid down towards the surface. He waited until the event was over, and then gave a sigh. "...You...are just...the worst." He slipped the sparkling back into the pack. "Well, there's nothing I can learn here for now... Let's go home, Tiny."_

_He continued to check and make sure the sparkling stayed put as he used the elevator down to the ground floor, and then stepped back out of the Depository. He slipped around the side and then transformed, the sparkling dropping into his back seat as he sped away, not wanting to be around when someone asked why a puddle of transmission fluid was right outside the front doors._


	4. Chapter 4

The entire way back into the city, Knockout didn't say a word or take his hand off of the stasis cell. His feelings were still all a jumble, and he was uncertain how things were going to play out once he and the bot were both conscious and looking at one another.

The two were seperated for only a short time as the cell was taken to be defrosted and opened. Because of the nature of the stasis his son had been in, it still would be an hour or so before he'd regain consciousness, which allowed Knockout to mentally prepare himself.

Knockout stood across the room from his son's limp frame, lying on the medical berth silently as his systems slowly began to awaken. The medic stroked his chin, whispering quietly to himself. "_...'Look, I'm not mad...'_ Oh who am I kidding? I'm_ furious_!" He hissed, rubbing his temples. "...I can do this. Hold your tongue, and be civil Knockout... Stay calm..."

* * *

It was cold. His joints ached whenever he even thought about moving, which considering the amount of pain he was even already, wasn't often.

"Wakey wakey Wildbreaky…"

Wildbreak's processor snapped him back into wakefulness at the sound of that voice. He knew it almost as well as he knew his own. His optics opened, staring blankly at a bright light above him.

What had _happened_…? Oh yes. He'd been on Earth's moon with the rest of his crew, trapped as Menasor to crush the Autobot combiner, but failed…

"Wildbreak…"

The singing tone came again; that same, smooth voice that he used to nod off to sleep listening to. He hadn't seen the owner during the battle, so either he'd been back down on the surface, the Autobots bringing them there…

…or more time had passed than he'd realized.

The blurriness of his visuals cleared, and he was able to make out the light of a medical examination room, and his entire chassis ached from the hits he'd taken. Surely they'd have healed by now…or he'd been in stasis the whole time.

The light vanished as an arm pushed it out of the way, then replaced by a mech's head appearing in his vision. "There are those yellow optics…"

"You…" Wildbreak's optics stared at the crimson bot looming over him. He had hardly changed, aside from a few new scars on his chestplate. "…You're here."

"Yes, I am. Now hold still."

Wildbreak waved a hand to bat away the medic's hand, sitting up on the medical table. "I'm fine, really."

"I'll be the judge of that…"

Wildbreak jumped as the medic grabbed his left arm tightly, his voice lowering to a hissing whisper. "You are fitted with a transformational inhibitor which prevents you from activating vehicle mode as well as any weapons you are fitted with. There are also two guards directly outside of that door that will bust in here and restrain you if you make any attempt to attack me, plus four more positioned down the corridor in case you manage to escape this room…Got it?"

Wildbreak nodded, his optics wide as saucers as the crimson bot slowly backed away from him, going to a scanner. "…How long has it been since Earth's Moon?"

"Weeks, months…How should I know? You're back on Cybertron, though…" He overlooked the scanner, and then picked up a tool. "Open up."

Wildbreak hesitated for only a moment, and then his chest plating folded back, revealing his inner components still covering his spark chamber. "You really don't have to worry about me; I can take care of myself now."

"Oh really? If you can take care of yourself, then how come just a few cycles ago, you were locked up in a stasis pod after being arrested for theft, destruction of property, illegal street racing off-planet and several other offenses?"

Wildbreak grimaced, not just from the medic naming off offenses on his record, but also as something organic was yanked out of his components. "You know about that?"

"Did I forget to tell you that I have a pretty good relationship with Lieutenant Bumblebee and his team back on Earth? And our new High Council, for that matter!" He slammed the wrench down on the table, "_Yes. I know_."

Wildbreak opened his mouth to speak, but the words left his processor, leaving just a hard sigh as his chassis slumped. "…I'm sorry, Knockout."

"Well that's not going to cut it, Tiny." Knockout replied, "And what did I say about calling me by my official designation?"

"…Sorry, Dad."

Knockout paused, picking up the tool again and looking down at the floor before his grip on the wrench tightened and his chassis creaked as he trembled. "…What if you'd been seriously hurt out there? I can't lose the only other bot I've ever really cared about… I've lost one; I'm _not_ going to lose you too! And on top of that, you _know_ you have a condition! You can't be putting yourself under stress all the time."

"I know… I tried to tell them, but they didn't seem to care."

"Well there's Stunticons for you… They don't care about much of anything except fusing together into…whatever."

"…How bad is it?"

"I don't much care what Motormaster and the rest of them got for sentences…" Knockout smirked, "…But I used my good looks and _charisma_ to negotiate a lesser punishment for you… Seven Stellar Cycles of Community Service."

"That's lesser than they intended!?"

"Yup… _Significantly lesser_."

Wildbreak slumped on the table further. "…I'm sorry…I just wanted company…It was lonely after you…You were banished."

Knockout sighed, closing up Wildbreak's chest compartment. "…It's a good thing_ that_ got sorted out, too…"

"That day…I didn't know what to do. I wanted to go with you, you wanted me to stay."

"Well it turned out to be a good thing you stayed. If you'd been with me, you'd have seen me fall into pieces." Knockout took a few steps away, looking at the floor. "If they hadn't found me, I don't think I'd still be online…"

He was quiet for a moment, and then chuckled. "I was so focused on finding a way to revoke my banishment, to get back here to you, that I completely ignored taking care of myself. That should tell you how much I wanted to come home."

Wildbreak looked down at the floor, "…I'm sorry…If there's any way I can make it up to you-"

"You can start by letting me finish examining you…And then we're going to get that nasty Decepticon symbol off your chest. It completely clashes with your coloring!"

"…You haven't changed."

"No…And really, neither have you…Now hold still."

Wildbreak held still for his father to continue checking him over, but he paused as a whistle came from the hall. Knockout placed his tools down, giving a hard sigh. "Can I _help_ you, Girls…?"

A pair of young, twin femme bots poked their helms into the room, giving big grins. "Are you _always_ this _intimate_ with your patients, Doctor…?" One teased.

The medic resumed his work. "Depends on what needs to be worked on… Aren't you two supposed to be studying?"

"Oh we _are_…!" The other replied, her optics closing a little as she looked at Wildbreak and then gave a wink while the other wiggled her eyebrows.

Wildbreak's fans burst into overdrive as his systems started to heat up, and he placed a hand over his spark as he looked away.

Knockout must've noticed, because he turned and pointed out the door. "That's it. You're flustering my patient. Out."

The twins giggled and then hurried off down the hall and out of sight. "Sorry about that…Don't mind the twins, they do that for fun."

"Do they…Do it often?"

"Unfortunately…Alright, hop off."

Wildbreak climbed off of the table, grimacing as his joints creaked. He took a few limping steps, stretching his legs and arms a little before giving a yelp as the wrench smacked him in the back of the helm. "OW!"

"And don't _ever_ be that stupid again, Wildbreak... I mean it."

Wildbreak rubbed his helm as he looked at his father's glare. "...Yes sir..."


	5. Chapter 5

Knockout's optics loomed down at his feet as the pair stood at the base of the building, helm drooping as the door to the lift hissed open.  
Guards stood on either side of them, Wildbreak boxed in and cowering under their glaring gazes.

The drive was without conversation, driving straight with little room to maneuver between the soldiers. Bots swerved out to the edges of the roads to make room for the convoy, some even transforming into bot mode to get a better look at them.

The moment the door opened, Knockout reached back and took his son's hand tightly, tugging him forward and into the lift. They crowded into the tiny space, the door closing just inches from Wildbreak's foot. The lift rattled up the shaft, knocking them about before screeching to a sudden halt.

"That lift could use some maintenance...!" Wildbreak chuckled nervously as the door clattered open, revealing the small, empty flat.

Knockout said nothing, trudging over to the berth and plopping down on it with a clang. He laid facedown for several moments, not moving aside from a hard sigh that cleared the dust from his vents.

"...I'm sorry I put you through so much scrap lately..."

Knockout rolled over onto his back, "You have... But right now, I'm just tired."  
He folded his hands over his torso, optics closed. "The energon cubes are in that box over there, the high grade's locked up."

"I don't even_ like_ High-Grade."

Knockout chuckled, and then the flat was mostly quiet for several minutes aside from Wildbreak taking out a cube of energon and quietly sipping on it. Knockout finally got up from the berth again, walking over to the table where Wildbreak was looking out over the city.

"It's_ smaller_ than I remembered..."

"Hmph. _You_ were smaller then." Knockout muttered, giving a sigh as he looked out the window as well. "...But it's brighter than the last time I came back to it."

Wildbreak leaned across the table, "...Tell me the story."

Knockout was quiet for several moments, "...Which one?"

"The one you were always telling me I was too young to hear. Tell it to me now."

Knockout frowned, "I...I don't know if I-"

"Please?... I can handle it now! I... I wanna know what happened..."

Knockout looked down at his hands, trying to ignore how shaky they suddenly felt. "...Okay."

He looked back out the window, "...It was only a short time ago, compared to how long the two of us were working together... The truth is I don't really_ know_ how he went offline, 'Breaker... But I do know that that Arachnid was responsible. Not long after, his signal came back up, but it was... _Wrong_."

"...A terrorcon?"

Knockout's gaze darkened as he looked back from the window and to his son, "..._Worse_."

Wildbreak shuddered, what could be worse than becoming an undead monster?

Knockout continued, his hands folding together and blocking his lips from view. "...A human by the name of Silas had wired himself up into his dead body, a horrid amalgamation of flesh and cybermatter that should _never_ exist."

"But aren't beings that are both cybertronian and organic a somewhat common thing?"

"Yes, a cybertronian that scans an organic form... But COILs, they're a properly merged being forged by a natural occurrence in cybertronian biology. _This _Cylas, he... The humans themselves refer to them as 'Frankenstein's Monsters', creatures created by mad science and that have no real life or soul to return to the Well of Sparks."  
Knockout leaned back in his seat, "...Cylas came to the Nemesis and I will tell you that I was horrified and spark-broken. My assistant... my _friend_... He didn't deserve that kind of fate. I wanted him off of that ship immediately, but Megatron wanted to see what this abomination might think he could provide us."

"And...?"

"Naturally, he failed to impress Megatron, and he was given to me to do whatever I wanted to do with... I'm afraid I was more sadistic in those days." Knockout sighed, "...In the process of torturing him to ease the pain of loss, I made him even more of a monster than he already was. He went from being a zombie to a vampire, sucking drones dry of their energon."

"Like those space monsters that you used to tell me stories about?"

"Yes... Someone managed to finally kill him, and we disposed of the body completely. Good riddance."

"I...I see."

"I never told you because one, I didn't want you to have nightmares, but two, I... I don't like thinking about what I used to be... Who I let the war turn me into." The medic gave a hard sigh, "...But he's still with us, in a way... and if the twins are any indication, I may see him driving these streets again one of these days."

"The femmes back at the medical station?"

Knockout chuckled, "No, no... _Different_ twins. Warriors of the past are being reborn, Wildbreak... The past is not _staying_ in the past, it seems."

"What do you think that means for us?"

"For now, nothing." Knockout got up from the table, "Go ahead to get some rest yourself, we have a lot of work to do tomorrow."

Wildbreak hesitated only a moment before getting up himself with a nod, "A-Alright... Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Knockout watched his son pass and disappear into the back room, and then resumed his staring out the window. Over the light of the city around, he could make out the glow of the Well of Allsparks, ever pulsing, always bringing new lives up from its depths.

Who would be the next to emerge? What old spark would be given a new body and chance at life, even if they don't know it?

Knockout knew his second chance, or perhaps this was his third chance, it was something he tried not to think too much about, but as he looked out into the starry night sky, he couldn't help but remember that day when his second chance had seemed to already be over...

* * *

_Right now, Knockout would give anything to go back to those days, those little moments of just him and his son bonding._

_Now he stood by the wall, his son standing in the center of the room, stiff as a hard drive._

_"Is it true...!?" His son whimpered, amber optics looking up at his crimson optics._

_Knockout's mouth was open, but no sound was coming from it. Primus, he looked so much like Breakdown. His coloring, his face, even the way his lower lip quivered when he was distressed. "...Wildbreak..." He managed to whisper._

_Wildbreak's optics finally released the stream of fluid down his cheeks. "It's true, isn't it...!?" He shook his head. "IT'S NOT FAIR!"_

_Knockout snatched his son into his arms as the young bot began to sob, screaming and pounding on the medic's chestplate in anger and sorrow. "I know...I know...!" Tears were threatening to fall down his own faceplate, but he fought them back. He had to be strong._

_"You didn't do anything! It's not fair!"_

_"But I did...I did horrible things once, Wildbreak. Horrible, horrible things...!"_

_"But that was a long time ago! You're good now, and you help people!"_

_"But that doesn't change my past..." The medic moved down until his optics were level with Wildbreak's. "...Listen to me, are you listening...?"  
_

_Wildbreak looked up at him, his hand gripping Knockout's wrists tightly as he gave a nod. "I need you to be good for me, okay...?"_

_"Dad...!"_

_"Okay? I need you to be good and stay out of trouble until I get back."_

_Wildbreak's optics widened a little, "B-Back...?"_

_"Of course!"  
Knockout pulled Wildbreak tightly into his arms, letting his son feel his spark beat against his chestplate. "I don't know when, or how, but I swear...I swear I will come back for you... You're my little mech, you know."_

_"W-What if you can't come back...!?"_

_"If Megatron can come back from the grave, then I can come back from a silly banishment... I love you, and I will come back one day... Be good..."_

_Wildbreak clung even tighter to his father, his chassis shaking as Knockout held him. He'd hold him until he had no more time left, until they had to finally be apart, if only for a little while._

_"Be good..."_


	6. Chapter 6

Hours slowly turned to days, and eventually a few weeks had passed. Wildbreak did everything his father told him to the letter, not wanting to mess up in any way. He was being such a perfectionist that even Knockout was getting tired of his constant nitpicking and second-guessing his own decisions.

Slowly but surely, the pair was getting back into a rhythm however, and it wasn't long before Knockout began to notice himself changing... He was happy again, he felt like himself again. Anything he could do to get Wildbreak to smile, he did. He took the younger mech to all of their favorite spots from when he was little, they chatted about the good days before all of this had happened, and Knockout smiled more than he had in a very long time.

It finally felt like things were what could be called 'normal.'

It was in the middle of the night-cycle when he received a ping on his comm tablet. He had it set only to accept emergencies, and only reports from certain bots. He grumbled as he rolled over on the berth, wincing at the brightness of the screen as he saw it was from one of the interns at the medical station.

"Knockout here..." He mumbled.

**I'm just a nurse's aide in training! I don't know what to do about _this_! I just- It's-**

Knockout sat up as the femme's frantic voice came through the speaker, "Whoa whoa whoa. Slow down, Flatline. Breathe."

He heard the femme trying to calm down on the other end, **S-Sorry...You need to come down to the medical station right now, Sir.**

"What's the matter?"

**It's a... We got in a patient, and it's... Pretty bad. I don't know what I can do for them, and nobody else wants to help!**

"What do you mean nobody wants to help?"

**The patient, it's uh... Well, they're incredibly soft, but I'm picking up a spark pulse and it- Ah! _She_, sorry! _She's_ asking for help, but all of the medics here are all either too scared to touch her or are freaking her out, and I'm not trained to do much more than check her vitals. Please, sir, I don't know what else to do...!**

"Stay with her, Flatline. I'll be there as soon as I can. Try to keep her stable, if you can."

Y-Yes sir!

Knockout disabled the call and then turned to Wildbreak as he sat up from his place on the floor, "Come on, apparently breaktime's over."

"Okay..." Wildbreak murmured, getting up from the floor. His joints creaked as he stretched, "Ow..."

"We'll see about getting you off the floor and another berth installed soon, I promise."

The medic collected a few things and tossed them into his subspace. "Alright, let's go. Sounds like it's pretty urgent."

* * *

Because of the hour, the streets were fairly quiet, allowing the pair to rush through them towards the medical station. The officer escort they'd have previously had been dismissed a few days prior, and Knockout could have been happier. He was getting tired of being watched at all hours...

Knockout was met by Flatline at the doors, "Sir."

"What happened?" Knockout inquired as they walked back behind the door and into the hall.

"We're not quite sure, Sir. They brought her here immediately from the Well of Allsparks. I've managed to keep her stable for now... I think."

"You _think_?" Wildbreak worried, "The damage is so bad you can't tell...?"

"It's not necessarily _damage_, it's uh... You'll see."

When they reached the examination room, there were several medical staff standing outside of it, but they all looked quite horrified.

"Come on. You're all professionals." Knockout complained as he opened the door, "It's probably no worse than anything I saw during the- SWEET PRIMUS!"

Knockout jumped back as he looked, and he understood why the others were freaked out as well.

On a normal day, he expected shattered limbs, pieces of metal and wiring everywhere, but this was practically the opposite. He understood now why Flatline had said the patient was still soft. A large blob of silvery protomatter was oozed out across the table, pulsating and shifting shape as if it were alive. That was the problem, it _was_. Knockout shook out of his frozen state, slowly moving towards the shape, Wildbreak close behind him.

"...That _doesn't_ look right." Wildbreak whispered.

"No...It _isn't_."

"We're detecting a spark pulse, but we're not sure what can be done for it." One of the other medics explained, "It...Came out of the Well this morning."

Knockout gasped as a large blob of the protomatter lifted up, and then a distinct torso, neck and faceplate appeared, with glowing white optics. "D-Don't throw me back down again!" She wailed, "Please!"

"Primus...!" Knockout placed a hand under her chin, trying to keep it stable even as the rest of her struggled to stay in one shape. "...You're _conscious_ like this...!?"

The femme cried out, her optics clenching shut as she shook. "I-I didn't mean to...! Th-They pushed me back down! I'm so _tired_...! Please, don't make me have to climb back up a_ fourth_ time...!"

"You climbed up from the Well three times?"

She gave a nod, "I...I _scared_ them...! Please...!"

Wildbreak bent down, looking her in the optic. "...Does it hurt?"

"A-A little..." She managed a smile, though with her face still unsolid it drooped on one side as she joked. "...I just can't seem to pull myself together...!"

Knockout smiled back, and then turned to Wildbreak. "Keep her talking, okay?" he whispered, "I think it's helping."

Wildbreak took his father's place while Knockout closed the door to his staring colleagues and then went to collect a scanner. He paid more attention to what the scans were reading as he moved the beam over the femme's form than what Wildbreak was actually saying, though he knew he was telling her about himself.

As he looked up, he saw her manage to form relative arms to prop herself up, and the protomatter on the floor was pulling itself up onto the table with her as well.

_A fully-developed spark and processor... Variations of typical internal systems, but an embryotic physical matter state._ Knockout stroked his chin, "Other than... _This_, she's perfectly normal..."

"Do you think there's a way to stabilize her?" Wildbreak asked.

"I don't know..."

The femme gave a sigh, resting her helm down on the table. "...I'm tired..."

"Then you go ahead and sleep." Wildbreak offered, "We'll see how we can help you while you rest."

"P-Promise you won't get rid of me?"

"Promise." Wildbreak informed with a firm nod, "Nothing is going to happen to you..."

The femme smiled, and then closed her optics, her form stable for now.

"That's a big promise to keep, Wildbreak..." Knockout whispered, "...You sure you can handle it?"

Wildbreak nodded slowly, "I think I can...You see this though? She can keep herself solid better if she's calmed down a little."

"I see that, yes... I'll need to look at these results a little more before I make a definite diagnosis." He stroked the femme's helm with one finger, "...This something entirely _new_ to me."

"So was _budding_. You'll figure it out."

Knockout grinned, "Glad _you_ have such confidence in me...I haven't had that in a while."

"I know..."


End file.
